


cake and gunpowder

by mochis



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: American Civil War, Gen, Guerrilla Warfare, Historical Hetalia, Imperialism, Original Character(s), War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 23:49:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15327114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochis/pseuds/mochis
Summary: The year was 1832 and three officers - though the witness would say that there were at least eight - found their way into a local patisserie down in Tacubaya and managed to swipe a few tea cakes while the owner wasn’t present. Coupled with the other cases of looting and crime, Mexico was faced with a (totally unreasonable) debt along with the pressure of balancing liberal and conservative factions in her country.And France is not one to forget debts.[the Franco-Mexican wars described from the perspective of Mexico.]





	cake and gunpowder

**Author's Note:**

> alternatively called imperialism can suck my dick

The issue started, as it usually does, over a few cakes.

People were hungry, but that wasn’t new. A new country meant a new chance for some people to take control, which only made it harder for other people to keep food to themselves.

Officers were no exception.

Three officers - though the witness would say that there were at least eight - found their way into a local _patisserie_ down in Tacubaya and managed to swipe a few tea cakes while the owner wasn’t present. Naturally, said owner, a self renowned pastry chef whom we will call _Monsieur_ Remontel, immediately brought this issue up to authorities, who in turn, brought it (and a dozen other looting accusations) to the attention of the prime minister of France.

Which is why Ana Maria Carriedo found herself with a letter in her hand from her dear friend, Francis, asking her for over 3 million _Francs_ \- roughly 600,000 _pesos -_ in payment for the numerous occasions of looting and crime.

 _At least he asked,_ she mused as she ripped the letter into clean pieces.

The request was beyond insane. How was she supposed to control hungry people? She could hardly feed herself.

Francis did not think that was a good enough excuse. He traded his pen and paper for a ship to deliver his warning in person.

Ana Maria was not impressed as he waltzed into the _cantina_ a few blocks from the port he docked his ship in. She downed a shot before turning to deal with him.

“Francis, do you really think I have the funds to pay back your pissy little chef?” Ana said this with a roll of her hazel eyes. Brown from her mother, green from her bastard father. “Be sensible. A day’s wages for workers isn’t even over a single _peso._ I cannot just pull that money out of thin air.”

Unlike the uniforms of her soldiers, Francis wore a decorated military uniform during his visit, medals shimmering with the afternoon sun. His hair had gotten longer since the last time she’d seen him, tied back and out of his face to show the confident curve of his lips. He wore the look of a colonizer quite well. “My friend, I am not asking. This payment will also pay back the rest of the looting your people have done.”

“They’re _hungry._ Bread is not easy to come by.”

“I am more than familiar with the aftermath of revolution.”

“Then show some damn _empathy,”_ She snapped, pushing past him and out the door. He followed with a huff, squaring his shoulders as he eventually caught up to her and blocked her path.

“Pay your dues, or my king and I will be forced to do something rash,” he said.

Ana Maria scoffed, turning on her heel. “Can’t be worse than what has already been done to me.”

The naval blockade that came after was of no surprise to her. Nor did the capturing of San Juan de Ulua, which led to the ultimate raid of Veracruz. It was upsetting, of course. But not a surprise. Little surprised Ana Maria - such as when one of her greatest trade powers, England, offered to step in and mediate their “small conflict”.

With a sour taste on her tongue, she eventually promised to fork over the cash and escorted both of them out of their country all in under 5 months with a scrappy signature on a throw away treaty.

Francis got his pissy little citizens what they wanted: better treatment and safety, and Arthur got the opportunity to feed his ego by mediating their “overdramatic and childish spat”, as he so humbly put it. Ana Maria only got a headache.

Nevertheless, she was grateful to finally be left alone to deal with the fresh set of problems in her own home. Such as where the ever loving fuck she was going to get the money to pay back Francis in the next two years.

“I don’t mean to pressure you, _Se_ _ñ_ _or,”_ Ana said to her new president, who was reaping the Very Fun benefits of trying to control a divided country, “but we still have the issue of paying back one of the biggest and powerful european countries...”

He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “I am more than aware.”

“What will we do? It has been more than thirty years. I’m surprised he hasn’t tried anything yet.”

 _“Yet._ Something must be coming. Particularly when it comes to money.”

The brunette nodded, crossing her arms and pursing her lips. It was almost as if it were an unspoken, universal law. As if the country of France did not have enough money of their own to horde and flaunt. Having been preoccupied with keeping her own citizens from killing each other over how the country should be run, she hadn’t had the time to pick up a French newspaper and skim over the details of what was going on, but she knew what she needed to know: a descendant of Napoleon was dead set on reliving the glory days of his uncle and had already gone to war with Austria. She might have been relatively new to actually being her _own_ country, but Ana Maria could figure that with the way things were going, Napoleon had his eyes set on her next.

Ana Maria tapped the heel of her boot against the marble floor of President Juárez’ office. _“If_ we are to go to war with France... are we prepared?”

Juárez hummed in thought. “Who can say? If we are to fight France and only France, we might stand a chance.”

As luck would have it, Mexico would _not_ be fighting France and only France.

The year was 1862, and Ana Maria wanted to kill someone - specifically, a tall, fair skinned, blonde captain descending from his ship, along with two of the World’s Friendliest Imperialists: England and Spain. Their fleets quickly pulled into Veracruz and seized multiple cities as if plucking flowers from the ground, and all for a few small debts. She wanted to laugh at the pettiness of it all, but knew there had to be something else they wanted. Or rather, that Napoleon wanted.

Regardless, Ana was adamant in fighting on the front lines despite how grim the odds against her were. Immediately leaving the north to defend her people in the south, she prepared herself to come face to face with her “friends” from across the ocean, making sure to keep her weapon fully loaded so she would be able to welcome them properly into her country. Her president wished her the utmost amount of luck and said a prayer as she bolted out of the door into the cool December air.

She was in the middle of tying up her boot laces in the city of Tehuacán when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and expecting a fellow teammate, she looked up with a smile -

\- only to have it morph into a snarl as she quickly pushed the hand away, forgoing her boot laces in lieu of the pistol in her holster. Antonio held both hands up, signaling that he did not intend to harm her this time.

“What do you want?” Ana Maria made sure to keep the gun aimed directly between his eyes, though knowing from past experiences, a shot like that would not kill him.

“Hey, easy,” He said, attempting a soft voice, “I don’t even have a weapon on me.”

She stomped right on that soft voice and spat, “ As if you need a weapon to hurt people. What do you want?”

Antonio dropped his hands and sighed, losing the Gentle Country act. “We are leaving. Arthur and I.”

“I know better than to take your word, _Señ_ _or.”_

“Ana, I’m serious. Francis - well, he isn’t here just for your debts. As I’m sure you know.”

She shrugged. “I had my doubts.”

The man shook his head, turning away from her. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was actually regretting this decision to start a war. As if starting a war over a few _pesos_ that he could quite literally make in a day wasn’t a good enough reason to take cities.

“Arthur has already withdrawn his troops. I am on my way to do the same.” With that, he turned on his heel, the mahogany coat Ana Maria had come to fear and despise fluttering in the wind.

It was April, and under the heat of the soon-to-be-summer sun, Mexico allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. That relief was short-lived, however; now that she knew Francis was after more than a few _pesos,_ there was more to lose on the line.

She would not let her country fall into the hands of another european power, and this she promised both to herself and to her citizens, divided as they may be.

With her boots tightly laced, Ana Maria left Tehuacán to defend an area near the city of Puebla, commanding troops alongside General Zaragoza. The fervor from the troops seemed to add to the overall mugginess of the day, anticipation mixed with anxiety heavy in the air as the French marched along the coast a little before noon. The Mexican forces did not know it yet, but they were marching directly towards the north mouth of the city.

“What are they waiting for?” Mexico murmured to no one in particular, eyes scanning the horizon from her position on the fort’s tower. “It’s nearly the middle of the day. Wouldn’t something have happened by now?”

A soldier, who she had come to know as Ilean, offered her a drink of his canteen. “Why do you worry? There are soldiers stationed at every point in this city. We would see them from a mile away.”

The water was delightfully cold as she took a generous gulp, wiping her mouth as she handed it back to him. “Oh, I’m not worried that we might miss them. Knowing Francis, he will be wearing something loud and ridiculous, and so will the rest of his men.”

They shared a grin before gunfire burst through the light-hearted moment, all coming from the north. Ana Maria was the first down the building’s stairs, several other men close behind her. Just as she predicted, it was a flurry of deep blue and bright red, tall helmets with protruding feathers that almost brought a chuckle out of the woman, had they not been coming straight at her and her men with loaded weapons.

Francis, one of the more decorated of the bunch, found her yanking her sword from a less than fortunate French soldier. Scowling, he drew his rapier from its scabbard and swung down just as she had her sword out of the soldier’s back. Sparks flew, and Ana had less than two seconds before he would strike at her again. She was quick to defend herself, bringing her weapon up just in time as the rapier aimed for her chest.

She kicked off with her left foot, digging the heel of her right boot into his abdomen and shoving him backwards.

“Very ballsy of you, Francis,” the brunet said, one hand holding her sword while the other rested on top of the pistol strapped to her hip. “Tell me, how angry were Arthur and Antonio?”

Ever the charmer, the blonde put on a glaring smile. “Angry enough to pick up and leave, as you can see. But no matter.”

As quickly as he had his gun drawn, Ana had hers out and pointed directly at his chest.

Francis laughed. “You know, if we weren’t about to kill each other, I would be very attracted to you right now.”

She scrunched up her nose. “Please don’t. I’d rather you stick to your pasty englishmen.”

No more words were needed when he lunged towards her, but she was faster, thanks to years of practicing with guns and accidentally shooting herself in the foot when she was younger. Francis hit the ground hard, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he managed to pick himself back up, cursing her and his two good for nothing european allies.

Ana knew she could not wait for that moment, however, and instead quickly jumped back into the action around her, firing and slicing her way through a surprisingly weak French army. Waves of attacks from the infantry came and went, and by the third assault, she noticed that their artillery had ceased all fire. She picked up the panicked cries of the French soldiers - “they’re out! No more ammunition!” - with the utmost glee, yelling at her own men to continue defending until the French were completely driven out.

Just as she predicted, Francis was up and back to cutting through her men with a newfound anger. Ana Maria wanted to laugh, but settled for clashing swords with him once again, pushing him away from one of her own soldiers.

He blew a golden strand of hair from his face, glaring at her. “That bullet hurt quite a bit.”

“Add your hospital bill on my tab,” she said, advancing on him with her sword raised high.

It was when he managed to pin her to the ground that she heard the glorious word (albeit in French): _retreat!,_ and when she looked at Francis, she could see the humiliation in his scowl. Seizing the moment, she swiftly raised both legs and kicked him off of her, rolling back onto her feet. Ana needed to find her general.

 _“General!”_ She yelled once she managed to find him in the frenzy, “They are retreating.”

“Then we send the cavalry after them,” he said, barking the orders to a few men nearby. “With the rains, they will not last long.”

While seeing Francis attempt to retreat on slippery roads while being chased down by the cavalry would have been quite the sight, she knew her place was right there beside General Zaragoza. She could hear the stories from her men later on that evening.

Her boots were muddy, but her spirits as well as the spirits of the surviving Mexican Army could not have been higher that day. On the fifth of May, 1862, the Mexicans had successfully driven off the French, and the entire world - including Ana Maria herself - was beyond surprised.

...Which was a fantastic feat, until a few weeks later when the French had gotten a hold of more troops and managed to take not only Puebla City, but Mexico City. Knowing what this meant, Benito Juárez, as well as the rest of the scrappy government during that time, opted to “retreat” to far into the north.

She managed to flag (now former) President Juárez before he was exiled, bursting into his office without so much as a knock. Her words rushed out like a broken faucet, _“Se_ _ñ_ _or,_ I have received the news, I will do more than talk to France and and his general, they cannot simply take over my government like this as they please -”

“Ana, enough,” he said, shutting her faucet of words clean. “We are in no position to fight back. You know this as well as I do.”

She did know it, but that did not mean she particularly liked it. “Where will you go?”

“Paso Del Norte, for now. We may move farther north to avoid the fighting.”

Mexico nodded, stepping aside as he moved past her and out of his office.

“I won’t like the new President.” She mumbled. Juárez almost laughed.

“You don’t like anybody. At least, not straight away.” She was about to protest - “that’s not true; I get along just fine with the vendors in the market and the bartenders” - but thought better of it and watched him go.

Once the capital was in the hands of Francis and Napoleon, they offered the crown to this new Catholic Empire, which made Ana want to tear her hair out, to none other than Habsburg Archduke Maximilian. No longer was a Republican in charge of her country, but an Imperialist. She was back to square one, only instead of a green-eyed Spanish bastard telling her what to do, it was a badly bearded Austrian. It all made her want to scream.

At the coronation, she had the wonderful privilege of seeing Francis again, all decorated with medals like a goddamn Christmas tree. They stood side by side as the crown was lowered onto Maximillian’s head, and he leaned down to say, “I hope you can manage to keep your finger off of the trigger. It wouldn’t be very becoming for a country to kill their own leader.”

With a tight smile, she replied, “Of course. I’ll save all of my bullets just for you.”

Ana Maria, along with the few monarchist Mexican citizens whom had enthusiastically welcomed Maximilian, were (delightfully, in Ana’s case) surprised by this new monarch. In the first few months on the throne, he expressed several ideas that proved to be almost as liberal as her former President.

“I hope you do not think of me wanting the power of a country all to myself,” Maximillian had said one evening, “I have an idea for an congress, elected by the people, of course.”

She couldn’t help but blink in surprise, her eyebrows nearly meeting her hairline. _“Si,_ _Se_ _ñ_ _or...._ I actually quite like that idea.” _Minus the actual monarch, which would be you,_ she thought as she sipped water from her glass, _but we’ll talk about that later._

As Ana grappled with the fact that this new monarch might not be as bad as her former imperialist owner, the French continued with their assault on the rest of the country, taking more cities than she would like to admit. The Republican army held their ground, however, managing to push off the French in Michoacán with the help of heavy Republican populations along the Rio Grande.

But despite their best efforts, Ana knew something more needed to be done.

Grabbing a pen and paper, she scribbled down a message to an old friend before setting off.

_“Alfred,_

_We need to talk._

_Ana.”_

The two met in Houston in the year 1864, the U.S. still struggling with its internal conflict known as the Civil War. And once Ana Maria saw Alfred’s thin and battered shell of his former self, it showed.

“Dear God, when was the last time you ate?” She asked as they took up a booth at a local restaurant. She kept her hat down to hide her face from the rest of the patrons.

Alfred noticed this and reached across the table to tip her hat up. “You don’t need to do that here. Confederacy support isn’t that strong in Texas. And I dunno, maybe a few days, or something.”

 _“Days?_ That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“In case you haven’t noticed,” he said, leaning forward, “I haven’t been myself for a while, now. This stupid war’s got me feeling all kinds of... weird ways.”

“I’m not sure if I should ask what you mean by ‘weird’.”

“And I’m not too sure I wanna tell you about it. Figure you got enough on your plate as it is.” Alfred said, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand. “Francis, huh?”

She scoffed, removing her hat altogether to set it onto the table. “I’ll kill him. I swear to God above, I’ll wring his stubbly neck.”

“I take it you haven’t seen ‘im on the field?” He waved a waiter over and ordered two drinks that Ana had never heard of.

“I have. Things went as you’d expect.” She made a motion of shooting a gun with her hand, forefinger and thumb extended out. “Got him on the first try.”

The man smiled, and she was glad to have pulled it out of him. With how things were going, she wondered when he last smiled. “Nice shot. You’ve gotten better since last time.”

Of course, by “last time”, he was referring to their spat over Texas. Her shooting skills were only sub-par then, but that was a story for another time. Their drinks had arrived, an odd shade of  mulberry that repelled her appetite rather than invite it.

“Simply shooting a gun won’t help me this time.” Ana Maria said. “Isn’t he violating the Monroe doctrine?”

“Well, yeah, but do you really think I’m in any state to enforce that right now?” Alfred took a swig from his jar, and she had to stop herself from grimacing. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was drinking watery paint. “Staying neutral while declaring how ‘uncomfortable’ the whole situation makes us is the best we can do right now.”

He was right, of course, but she still frowned. “You’re right. I’m sorry. This is just... _very_ frustrating. You’re the only one I can turn to right now.”

“I know, Ana. Just give me some time, yeah? I’ll be back on my feet once this war’s over and done with. It can’t go on forever.”

“We’ll see.” She pointed to his glasses. “And you’ve already cracked your glasses.”

For once, Alfred was right. A year later, as the Civil War winded down to a close, the U.S. played a very generous part in allowing republican forces to buy as much weaponry and ammunition they might have needed, and then some. Using the money the Juárez administration had earned selling war bonds in America, troops were able to get their hands on some of the best rifles they had ever touched - most coming straight from Baton Rouge.

As Maximilian dealt with the realization that the Mexican conservative that were once on his side didn’t appreciate his liberal ideas, Ana Maria enjoyed news of the Republican army taking back and occupying cities such as Matamoros and Acapulco. Things were certainly looking up.

At least, for Mexico.

Francis was left with a choice: keep the puppet state of Mexico under his thumb, or seek out business relations with one of the fastest growing powers in the world - the United States.

(It did not take him very long to come to the decision to abandon Mexico.)

Napoleon called for a full withdrawal of French troops, and Ana Maria expected Maximilian to be one of the first out of the country, but his cabinet members beat him to it. Rather, he was more interested in his “loyal followers”, as he put it, and decided to stay in order to help Imperial forces repel the Republicans.

“I should have known,” Ana Maria said to herself, almost sadly, as she watched him load his carriage for the trip to Santiago de Querétaro, “once an imperialist, always an imperialist.”

A month later in early March, she received news of a siege on Querétaro. Two months after that, and Republican forces managed to capture Maximilian as he attempted to escape. Sighing, Ana packed her things and left for the court martial, already knowing what his sentence would be.

When she asked Juárez about his harsh sentence, he only replied, “His death will hopefully be a message clear enough for anyone to understand that the country of Mexico will not be controlled by any opposing country.”

With an answer like that, how could she argue?

The sun was high in the sky as Mexico stood alongside loyal followers of Juárez, rifles up and aimed at a helpless Maximilian. Despite being the hour of his death, he did not look afraid. She turned away when they fired, pity sitting heavy on her chest.

She returned to Mexico City with one of the brightest grins she had ever worn on her face, relief and happiness flooding through her to see Juárez take his rightful spot in the Presidential office. Now that the conservatives were practically defunct - turns out helping the enemy invading your country grants you a bad rep - there was more than enough room for proper liberal reforms, which had surprisingly been kept by former the Archduke.

Just like that - and just as Alfred said - things ended, and the dust cleared to make way for a new Mexico.

* * *

 

The year is 2018 and Ana Maria Carriedo looks forward to nothing more than an afternoon at the Starbucks a few blocks from the day’s meeting place, and looks forward to spending it alone. Being in a room with America’s president and England’s prime minister has done nothing but give her a terrible migraine, which she plans to ease with something sweet.

A bell sounds off as she walks through the door, and just before it closes, another jingle follows. She glances back and finds none other than Francis Bonnefoy a few steps behind her, polished and decorated as usual, despite not bearing medals or a tacky uniform.

“Now this is a surprise,” he says, and there’s something pleasant in his tone that makes her smile. “I didn’t think I’d bump into you after the meeting.”

“Likewise. I didn’t peg you as a Starbucks guy,” Ana replies. Maybe it is the pleasant way he spoke to her, or the soft aroma of coffee beans, but she finds herself in a better mood than she was throughout the whole day.

“I’m certainly not,” he scoffs, scanningthe menu above the counter and disliking every item he reads, “but desperate times call for desperate measures. I’ve been getting headaches after every meeting with the supposed World Leaders as of late.”

She chuckles, stepping forward to place her order. After pointing at the soft pink cake pops in the display case, she turns and asks Francis, “What do you want? I’ll treat you.”

At that, the blonde grins. “I’ll be sure to pay you back.”

The two share a slice of chocolate mousse cake in good company, and Ana Maria doesn’t notice when her migraine goes away.

**Author's Note:**

> Some historical notes:  
> \- yes, the first franco-mexican war/french intervention was really because of some cakes. Or rather, it brought up the issue of a bunch of looting and some other crime shit that the french didn’t like. Another name for this war is the Pastry War  
> \- the new early mexican republic was broken up into factions, and benito juarez was the more liberal of the bunch. The Other Big Faction were the conservatives  
> \- also yeah, france swindled spain and england into going after mexico in the Convention of London, and literally as soon as they found out that he did them wrong, they both backed out. so that’s cool, i guess  
> \- the battle of Puebla, which is what Cinco De Mayo is actually all about, was a huuuuge morale boost to the mexicans. French artillery did run out of ammunition during the third wave and when they eventually retreated, they were slippin and slidin on muddy roads while being flanked from the right and left, ALL while being chased down by mexican cavalry. WILD  
> \- once the city of Puebla surrendered to the french, benito juarez and his cabinet were forced to flee north and eventually stayed in Chihuahua.  
> \- emperor maximilian I really wasn’t all that bad in terms of political reforms; similar to juarez, he had more of a liberal vibe and advocated for less work hours in the day, abolishment of child labor, and the removal of the serfdom system among the natives. Once the mexican conservatives found this out, they didn’t really like him, and the republicans already didn’t like him because he was a monarch, so boo boo the fool here had virtually no allies in mexico :(  
> \- the U.S. couldn’t really do anything for mexico during the time of the second franco-mexican war because it was dealing with their own civil war. President James Buchanan gave a speech in 1860 expressing how europe really shouldn’t be sticking their noses into Mexico’s business, and President Lincoln expressed his sympathy towards Latin America who had to deal with european interference. Finally, once the war was coming to an end, they were able to help Mexico out by letting followers of juarez sell bonds in america so they could raise money for the republican troops to afford guns and ammunition from the U.S. In 1868, United States Secretary of State William H. Seward invoked the fuck out of the monroe doctrine, calling it an “irreversible fact”  
> \- france really did choose american relations over keeping Mexico as a puppet-state. When the french were withdrawing, Napoleon III urged maximilian to leave as soon as possible, but boo boo the fool didn’t listen  
> \- boo boo tried to sneak out but was caught and executed by firing squad, and YES benito juarez really did say that his death would be a strong message to everyone about backing the FUCK off of mexico. Tons of important european figures like victor hugo and giuseppe garibaldi sent letters to him begging him not to kill maximilian, but juarez was firm  
> \- there were also belgian and austrian volunteer troops during this war
> 
> Some other notes:  
> \- ana maria carriedo is my OC (first name pronounced ah-nah). i wrote another fic involving her, america and an important latin american figure a while back, and tbh it’s one of my favorite fics that i’ve written. Her father figure/person who practically raised her is spain, ofc, and if you’ve taken a basic history class, you could guess why she isn’t a Big Fan of him. I might write more of her backstory if i feel like it ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> \- the name ilean is pronounced ee-le-ahn. It’s actually my tio’s name :^)  
> \- i actually had no idea how i would portray alfred for this fic... i’ve given thought to what i think might have happened to him during the civil war, but it gets muddy. Seeing as racism and xenophobia was big back then (and even now.....), it was seen as the norm, therefore i, personally, am not sure where alfred would stand on the whole slavery/confederates vs union debate. So imma stop myself before i go off on a tangent. All in all, he’s facing major Inner Conflict  
> \- texas wasn’t huge on leaving the union because there was a large population of GERMANS!!!! german cowboys!!!!!!! yeehaw!!!!! And leaving the union was just a dumb decision .


End file.
